


The Arctic Fox

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Series: When Icarus Met The Sun [6]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Tony Stark, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Hydra Tony Stark, Kid Tony Stark, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-03-07 23:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18883561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: Kidnapped after the Winter Soldier killed her grandparents, little Tony is moulded into the Winter Soldier's shadow.They escape together after the failure of Project: INSIGHT and try to begin a life anew. But someone would come after them again eventually. They always do.





	1. Little One

The two adults, Howard and Maria, were executed as ordered. The package was retrieved. There were supposed to be no witnesses. 

The briefing didn't mention the four year old in the backseat, knocked out via concussion from the crash. She wasn't supposed to be there. He wasn't ordered to kill anyone else, but there were supposed to be no witnesses. 

He pulled her from the wreckage and sat her in front of him on the motorcycle, the case in his saddlebags, and drove away from the burning car. 

* * *

He beat her into the ground over and over again. 

"If you can't get stronger, get faster." He instructed. "Get smarter, get smaller."

It was his mission to teach her, but something inside him made him softer than he had been on the others. She was so little. She always got back up, determined, no matter how much she was bleeding or if she could see straight. 

He trained her for two years, then they started sending her with him. 

She was very good at stealing things. She could climb and wheedle her way into any place and take anything they needed. She was smart and fast and a genuine threat with a knife. She could stick a blade between ribs more effectively than any other agent, though she rarely actually fought - that was what he was for. 

Every time he came out of the tube, she was bigger than he remembered, though still very short and slender. Malnourished, his mind supplied with a pang of sympathy. He didn't eat enough either. 

* * *

"Where's the Fox?"

"By the Soldier's cryo container, Mr. Secretary."

"What the hell is she doing in there?"

"Sleeping, sir. We try to contain her to her rooms, but she always gets out. All she does is come and stand guard by him."

Pierce stopped at the door, catching sight of her curled into a ball on a thin cot by the Soldier's tube. Her loyalty to him was admirable - and very, very valuable. As long as they maintained control of the Asset, her slippery little fingers would never be working against them. 

"Wake him up." He handed a file over to the handler. "I want them on Rogers as soon as they're equipped."

"Yessir."

He turned to the man behind him. "You're on watch. Don't lose them."

Rumlow nodded. "Yessir."

Pierce turned and left, the handler leaving with him to piece through the orders. Rumlow went and knelt down next to her, looking her over. 

She was young, maybe twenty, with olive skin made pale by time underground, and dark hair. There were bags under her eyes and dirt under her nails. She was always dressed in uniform, same as the Soldier, and strapped with knives she wasn't supposed to have. 

"Fox, time to wake up." He said. She snapped awake immediately, sitting up in a rush and blinking the light doze from her eyes. 

"Mission?" She murmured, voice hoarse. 

"Yes. Get up."

* * *

She helped him drag the body of the target up onto the beach as the helicarriers blew up. 

"Soldat, what do we do now?" She asked, panting and soaked. "We failed the mission."

He swallowed, looking more haunted than usual, and took her hand in his only functional one. "We're leaving."

She paused for a fraction of a second, then followed him. "Where to?"

* * *

Romania was nice. It was quiet and calm. Their apartment was simple and clean, if mostly empty. They didn't need much. This was luxury. 

Until that damned man with the shield reappeared. He brought with him more attention than they ever wanted and definitely more than they needed. 

"Out." He ordered. She broke the floorboards, grabbed the bag and tossed herself over the balcony. He followed in short order, finding her already in combat against a man dressed as a cat. 

"Go!" She kicked the bag toward him and he grabbed it. They had a designated location to meet, another safehouse, and Steve was relentless. The cat man turned, ready to abandon her to attack him, but she wrapped her legs around his neck and slammed him into the air conditioner. 

They caught up with him under the freeway, and when they tossed him into the back of a van, she was already in chains. Her fingers were locked apart, enough that she couldn't touch the locks. Considering the state of the men in armour around her, he was pretty sure she'd broken out more than once. 

" _I can get us out._ " She said in Russian to him. 

" _Don't bother_." He replied, shaking his head. " _They'll find us again. Find me._ "

She seemed unsure, but followed his lead. 

* * *

She didn't like this Steve character. Sure, he had saved the Soldier from himself when that therapist had triggered him, but she still disliked him. She stared at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

Steve disregarded her entirely, like she didn't exist. Like she was little more than a backpack he carried around. 

Inside the too-familiar bunker, the place she'd grown up, they saw the other subjects dead in their tubes. 

"What does he want to claim?" She wondered. "What does he want to teach your Avengers?"

"What makes you think he's after the Avengers?"

"Were you not responsible for the disaster in Sokovia?" She pointed out, perhaps a little more vendictively than necessary. 

Steve scowled at her, like she was a worm. She would continue to undermine him, as long as it took. The Soldier was hers, not this man's - some random who called him by a name he didn't use and encountered him with memories he didn't have. She had been the one next to him all those years, had carried him from the chair a secretly repaired the damage to the arm that would get him punished. It was her who had stood between him and Pierce, who'd been the tinker spy. Steve, whatever merits he had, was no one to the Soldier, and no one to her. Another tool, who's use was coming to an end.

She followed them in and spotted the video projector right away. The maniac had a point he was trying to make, and their old housing unit possessed them. 

"I'm glad to see you here, Captain." The man, Zemo, said with a smirk. "Let's take a look at what your best friend has been responsible for, yes?"

The tape began to play and she felt her skin go cold. She remembered this road, this day, but she chose to forget it. 

Steve watched as the Soldier killed the adults and pulled out a child, no more than four, and carried her away. 

She didn't bother waiting to see it through - she remembered it well enough. She climbed through the vents and into the command capsule, wrapping her hands around his neck and throttling him with all the vengeance she could. 

The man in the cat suit stopped her from killing him, not striking back when she lashed out. 

"Don't let hatred consume you." He said softly, not catching her when she pulled away. "They will take all of you, then."

"What do you know about it?" She hissed. "What could you possibly know about being made like this? About being made into a monster?"

"Nothing. But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

She frowned and turned away, obscured by the darkness as though she'd never been. Perhaps she hadn't been - made into a shadow, ghost and memory blown away in the Siberian winds across the tundra. 

Her callsign was as apt as it was tragic. She was a little Arctic Fox lost in the wasteland HYDRA tossed her into, following her Soldier until he, too, was obscured by the storm. 

"Where are you going now, little Fox?"

"Away from here." She bit out. 

"Wakanda is away from here." He said, out before he could decide otherwise. "We may be able to help you and your Soldier."

She turned back to him, looking more than ever like a wounded animal. "He decides."

He nodded back. "Then let us go ask him, little Fox."


	2. Howard Stark Jr.

She followed him through the immaculate white building, laced with pipes of steel. She was very uncomfortable trailing him in the daylight, dressed in her leather battle gear with no mouth guard. She was visible to all the cameras, to the politicians she had plotting to kill, to all the reporters she was planning to silence. 

"You're tense." The General, Okoye, commented walking beside her.

"Yes." There was no other answer. 

"You need to loosen. Pretend even when you're not." Okoye instructed. 

"I'm an assassin, not a spy. I don't know how." She said back, trying to keep a sharp tone out of her voice. The older woman was trying to help her, but there was nothing to be done for it. She didn't know what it was to be calm, to be content and  _at ease_ outside of a stance. 

She got a sympathetic glance in response. "Then you'll have to learn."

She itched to double check her body for her knives and guns, even though she knew they were all there. Other agents had been keen to steal them in the bunkers, and consequently lost hands and fingers for their transgressions. She wished there was darkness to sink into, or the Soldier somewhere nearby. But he was on a plane back to Wakanda on ice, and she was here.  _Away from him._

"Your Highness." An old man with greying hair stepped out of the crowd, a fake smile and extended hand on display. T'Challa shook his hand. 

"Mr. Stark, a pleasure."

"Please, my father was Mr. Stark. Just Howard is fine." He smiled wider with a forced laugh. "I was wondering why you would bother to call a press conference, but then I heard about Barnes and the Fox. Are you sure this is something you want to take on, so new to the world stage?"

"We may be new to you, Howard, but we are far from ignorant to the working of the outside world." T'Challa answered smoothly. "And I am very sure I wish to protect these people from further torture."

"Oh, trust me, I agree with you." Howard sucked in a breath. "Senior, my dad, never shut up about Barnes. I'm just making sure you're not walking into this blind."

"As a sign of friendship, I assume?" T'Challa chuckled. "Very shrewd."

"If you're wondering, what I'm after isn't your vibranium."

Okoye snorted. 

Howard smirked back. "Surprised the hell out of me, too. I was more interested in Barnes and the Fox, actually. I was hoping you'd let me work with them?"

Her hackles rose -  _work with them_ \- and the Soldier's safety overrode her self-preservation. "No."

T'Challa turned to look at her and she caught Howard's eye for the first time. "And why not, little Fox?"

Howard's eyes widened with something more than recognition. "This is her? The Arctic Fox?"

"I'll kill you if you touch him." She snarled, shifting one foot back just enough to pounce. "I'll kill you and everyone you bring."

Howard's face went ashen, but his stare was locked on her. It looked like his heart was about to give out. 

Okoye clamped a hand down on her shoulder. "I can and will subdue you, Fox, so mind your voice."

"It's okay, Okoye." T'Challa said, gently brushing the General's hand away. "You'll have to forgive her. She's been with HYDRA since she was-"

"Four." Howard swallowed. "Since she was four."

T'Challa frowned. "I was unaware her profile had been released since she's only-"

"Twenty-five." Tears beaded in Howard's eyes. "Oh God, I failed you Antonia."

She physically recoiled and fell into a fighting position. The only people to call her by that name were the highest ranks of HYDRA. No one else knew who she was before she became the Soldier's shadow. No one but the elite had known who the Soldier was, either. She didn't recall his face from those briefings and debriefings, nor was his face the face of the man from the car. How the hell did he know her  _name_?

"Antonia . . ." Howard spoke the name with such longing, so much intense emotion, she didn't know what to do with it. 

"How do you know that name?" She stood her ground, but if he came closer, she would incapacitate him, drag him somewhere and  _make_ him talk, Okoye and T'Challa be damned. If he knew her, that meant he knew about the Soldier and that would not stand. 

(She knew, in the back of her mind, that everyone knew about the Soldier. He'd been a public figure for nearly a century. But she had a duty to him and would not be subdued from it.)

Howard Stark Jr.'s heart broke right in front of her eyes. "You don't remember me."

T'Challa looked between them, frowning in confusion, but his body language projected that if it came down to it, his choice would be to defend  _her_ , not him. 

"No." She fingered the knife hidden on the inside of her wrist. No one knew it was there but her. She'd made it in secret. The blade was poisoned. She would kill him, given the chance.

Howard looked away. "After the conference, can I speak with her, privately?"

"No, I'm afraid. Either myself or Okoye will need to be present." T'Challa replied. 

"Because she's under your amnesty?"

"Because she is volatile." T'Challa answered. "She has spent her life being tortured and made to kill. Would you be surprised that a pit dog knows only to attack?"

"No. No, I suppose I wouldn't." Howard looked down. "Still, afterward?"

"Yes. I will send a messenger for you." He moved around her, a gentle hand between her shoulders, both comforting and steadying. Not that she needed it - she was in perfect form to attack. She'd trained against a super soldier, she could kill anyone. 

Howard ducked his head. "Thank you." He saw himself out. 

"Are you alright?" T'Challa asked. 

"How does he know that name?  _How_?" She hissed. 

"I can't say, little Fox." His hand moved up to rest on the back of her neck. "But we will find out."

* * *

She stood at his shoulder the whole time, staring blankly out over the sea of faces and unnerving more than a few of them. The Wakandans weren't afraid of her, but all these people were. 

"Your Highness, Jim Acosta with CNN, do you have any comments on the two war criminals you've granted asylum to and are you planning to turn them over to the proper authorities if and when they're able to testify?"

"War criminals?" T'Challa ruminated. "James Barnes was a soldier and held captive, forced into committing his acts of violence and extensively tortured. Should he offer us any information about those crimes, we will gladly share it in its proper channels. But I do not consider him a criminal by any means. He is in need of care and rehabilitation, which is what we have granted him. The Arctic Fox is of similar situation, I'm informed. She was kidnapped at an early age and trained to be as she is, which is beyond her control."

"Do you not think that giving them back to the government of their countries of origin would be the wiser move?"

"No, I do not. Many HYDRA officials were inside of their government structure and I have no reservations about exactly the type of treatment they would receive." T'Challa remained aloof but sympathetic. "To blame them for their actions is much the same as blaming the gun for firing when it was clearly the gunman who is responsible for the shot. They are weapons, but I intend to have them reacquainted with their humanity and gentility."

"What makes you so sure the governments involved are corrupted?"

She took the mic from T'Challa, staring on blankly. "Because I told them."

"What did you tell them?" Acosta pressed. The rest of the press core waited on baited breath. 

"The truth." She replied. "There is no safer country for the Soldier and me than Wakanda. Anywhere else in the world would seek to re-weaponize us as their own assassins or assets and use both our skills and knowledge against their enemies. Wakanda has no such interests."

"How can you be sure?" Acosta insisted. She appreciated his dedication to his job. 

"Because I reported to them directly." She looked directly into the camera. "I know who you are."

The press erupted into a miasma of shouted questions, not the least of which was  _Is that a threat?_

T'Challa took the mic back. "Thank you for your time."

She saw Howard break away from the collage of business moguls and make a dash for the backstage area. 

"Howard." T'Challa greeted. 

"That went well." Howard commented, wringing his hands. 

"As well as expected." T'Challa smiled. "Follow me if you wish to speak privately."

They all walked in silence until they reached a small dressing room. She felt at once better and worse in the small space with only the to men. 

"Do you really not remember me at all?" Howard started, right off the bat. 

"No." She scowled. "But I do want to know how you know my name."

"Antonia . . . " He breathed. "It's because I gave it to you."

She shook her head. "You're not the man from the car. You're too young to be."

"That was my father. He was taking you on vacation with him. Or, he was supposed to be." Howard's voice broke. "Oh God, I've failed you. If I'd have just kept looking . . . Was to the scene faster . . . I should have never let them-"

"Is this all you wanted? To make yourself pathetic and recriminate yourself?" She scowled. "Whatever you should have done or did do are irrelevant. What happened has been done. Whether I am who you think I am and you are to me who you believe you are - they don't matter. I'm an Antonia, but I'm not  _your_ Antonia. If I ever was, I'm not now."

"But-" He was at a loss for words. "After all this time, you manage to find you way back home-"

"You're not my father." She said, perhaps more harshly than the grieving man deserved. "I don't know you. If this is all you wanted, we're done here."

"No, wait, please- Let me come see you. Try to re-establish a relationship."

"I was kidnapped when I was four and beyond that, I'm an asset of HYDRA." She said. "I'm sorry your daughter is dead, but there is nothing you're going to find in me to fill the gap she left behind."

"Please." Howard's voice was weak and desperate. "Please, anything."

"I only know what I am, not who I was. I have nothing for you." She nodded to T'Challa, who led her from the room.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Howard Stark lost his daughter for the second time.

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She glanced up at Okoye as she cleaned her gun on the plane ride back to Wakanda. "About what?"

"Stark."

"What is there to talk about?"

"He's your father."

"I don't know who he is beyond his position on a HYDRA threat list." She laid down the clean gun and moved onto loading her fifty-round mags. "There is only one person who means anything to me, and you already have him."

Okoye whistled lowly. "That's cold, even for you."

"That's my reality."

Okoye cast her a dubious glance, then sat down across from her, polishing the vibranium spear she always carried. 

"General?"

Okoye glanced up at her. 

"Do you think I will ever become normal?"

"Do you want my honest opinion?"

"Yes."

"No, I don't think so." She ran a soft cloth along the razor edge. "But I do believe you'll find happiness somewhere. You'll never escape your training and conditioning, only repurpose them."

She looked back down the mag in her hand, clicking in another round. "Do you think I'll ever stop fighting?"

"Do you enjoy fighting?"

She felt shame well up inside her, because this was the only area in which she and the Soldier differed. "Yes, I do."

"Then no. You don't seem like the type to seek out a fight, but if you like it, you'll never stop answering battle's call."

The click of the rounds in the hold echoed loudly. "Am I broken?"

"I would rather describe you as a torn muscle not given the chance to heal right. You're not broken, but right now, you're not right, either."

She sat in silence and stillness, mulling those words over as she filled mag after mag. 

* * *

When they touched down, Queen Ramonda and Princess Shuri were there to greet them. She followed T'Challa down the ramp and stood behind him at attention while he spoke to his family. 

"Shuri, will you show the Fox to the Soldier?" Ramonda asked, all poise and grace. 

"Sure, sure." The teenager said, reaching out and taking her hand. 

It took everything in her will not to spin around and slam the princess into the concrete landing pad. She did her best to gently remove her wrist from Shuri's grasp. Shuri, for her part, didn't seem to notice or care. She led the assassin down into the bowels of what was evidently a workshop of some kind and over to a massive white pod, wherein her Soldier slept in stasis. 

"Here he is. Feel free to wander around and get acquainted with stuff, just don't touch anything." Shuri said. "I know you're going to be down here a lot, but I can't have you breaking things you don't understand."

She eyed the dubious machines. "I won't."

"Good." The princess smiled brightly. "Uh, what are you doing?"

She curled up on herself at the foot of the case. "Sleeping."

"I would hope so. But, why?"

"I haven't slept in six days."

"Oh! I'll have something brought down for you. Why didn't you say something, crazy lady?" Shuri huffed and walked off, talking into a collection of beads on her wrist. "Brother, you will not believe that crazy white Fox you brought home . . ."

The familiar cold at her back signifying her Soldier's presence let her fall into a somewhat restful doze until a black shadow moved across her field of view. 

"Do not worry, little Fox." T'Challa's soothing tenor broke over her. "Simply getting you off the ground."

She nodded at him, still half-asleep, and let him lay her down on the cot they brought down. Her sleep afterwards, with T'Challa's hand in her hair, was dreamless for the first time in decades. 

 

 

 


End file.
